Temenos – Winter 2013

Temenos, the journal of Central Michigan University, is a Greek word that “refers both to the ancient Greek concept of sacred space and the Jungian ‘safe spot’ where one may bring the unconscious into the light of consciousness.” The editors say that their mission is to “bring to light works that are engaging, memorable, and fearless.”

Temenos, the journal of Central Michigan University, is a Greek word that “refers both to the ancient Greek concept of sacred space and the Jungian ‘safe spot’ where one may bring the unconscious into the light of consciousness.” The editors say that their mission is to “bring to light works that are engaging, memorable, and fearless.”

Jacob Melvin’s “Jack-O’-Lantern” is short and simple, but powerful at the same time. It’s the first Halloween since the narrator’s wife (his daughter’s mother) has died. He thought his daughter might have grieved at some point but did not think it would be when they were about to go trick-or-treating. He finds her, half in her cat costume, laying on the hardwood floor. “I’m a dead kitty,” she says. The father’s next move shows that he is a good father and that they will make it through together.

Ben Lieb’s nonfiction piece “My Portrait in the Memorial” grieves for his classmate, a girl who was kidnapped out of her home when she was twelve. The piece asks questions of empathy: “Could I feel empathy for a man who had committed unforgivable crimes?”

Now here’s a line to draw you into Daniel Waters’s “Flotsam”: “‘I was never very good at sex,’ my father told me the night I died.’” Because, first of all, whose parents really talk to their children about sex (beyond the whole idea of the birds and bees). Clearly, the narrator agrees:

This unprovoked little address hit me like a stiff cocktail of disgust and excitement. I’d never had the slightest interest in accepting as a reality that my father had been a sexual being any more times than the one time it took to create me. That was hard enough to swallow. But, ever since it had become clear that he shouldn’t be living alone and I had moved in with him, the extent of our communication had been relegated to bathroom alerts and grunting. I couldn’t let my childish repulsion spoil this drastic improvement.

But at his deathbed, his father finally lets the narrator in, at least a little bit, confessing that he wasn’t perhaps happy with his choices in life, that all life is is “flotsam”: “Living is what you do with the shit that’s left over after the fucking storm. And you know what, you’ve just gotta keep fucking afloat, thank God this one didn’t take you, and then reassess.”

There are more stories, alongside photography (see Eleanor Leonne Bennett’s “High Res”), and the work of three poets. Important to digital literature, the site is in a very easy format to read. Temenos offers a fine sampling of work, several of which will be stuck in my head all week.
[temenosjournal.com]